


Bad Dreams

by rhostheirin



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fenris being nice, Grief/Mourning, Nightmares, Stories of Thedas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:00:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28534797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhostheirin/pseuds/rhostheirin
Summary: Scarlett Hawke cannot stop dreaming of her mother's tragic death and what she could have done to prevent it. Thank the Maker that Fenris is there to talk some sense into her.
Relationships: Fenris/Female Hawke
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Bad Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> For Talvi's Stories of Thedas! xD

_The fields opposite their village, just outside Amaranthine, seem to go on forever. Or at least they do when you are a child and you have never ventured past them. Scarlett runs through the tall grass, beating her in the face as she goes, but that does not deter her. Carver chases behind, growing ever closer to her, having already caught Bethany aeons ago. She never was very good at catch. The younger sister sits on a tree stump nearby, cheering Scarlett on as she is determined to get away from her brother. Scarlett looks back at him, only momentarily, but it is enough time for her foot to hit a rock and she tumbles through the grass, hitting her head on the hard ground._

_“Sister!” Carver calls concernedly as he quickly catches up and kneels beside her. “Are you okay?”_

_“Just a cut,” she dismisses though, in reality, it stings like crazy._

_“We’ll take you back to father. He can heal you.” Carver helps her up as Bethany rushes over, fearful for her older sister._

_“Are you okay, sister? Your head is bleeding!” she says as she touches the trickle of blood seeping down the nape of Scarlett’s neck._

_“It’s nothing Bethany, really,” she replies, patting her sister on the head and her hand almost gets lost in the thick black curls. Although Scarlett had more of her mother’s looks, Bethany and Carver were most certainly the spitting images of father._

_Suddenly, a menacing man that she does not recognise is heading towards them. As he draws closer, she can see that he is heavily armoured, the argent plates glistening in the sun, and then she sees the crest on his torso. A flaming sword._

_Carver steps in front of his sisters instinctively as the man stops before them. “What do you want?” the boy yells at the man, though hardly intimidating as he is carrying a sword bigger than Bethany._

_“You are Malcolm Hawke’s offspring, yes?” he asks though he clearly already knows the answer. “I am looking for him. Could you be a good kid and tell me where he is?” The man leans down so that he is their height and awaits an answer. None of them says anything, too scared to open their mouths. “Right, very well,” he says, abruptly standing up and roughly grabbing Scarlett by the arm. He rips her away from her siblings, dragging her heels along the mud as he walks. “I’ll have to take this one instead.”_

_“No!” Carver shouts in defiance but he is powerless to stop the man as he takes her away like she is a lamb being taken to slaughter._

_“Get away from my sister!” Bethany lets own an almighty scream and suddenly Scarlett feels overcome by the cold and she drops to the ground with a thud. She turns on her side to see the Templar beside her, frozen in place, and Bethany with her arms in the air, the frost particles making their way back to her._

_Scarlett and Carver gaze at her in astonishment as she releases her hands, finally realising what she has done. “Bethany, you’re a-”_

_“Don’t say it!” she snaps at her brother, looking sheepish. “I know what I am.”_

_Scarlett climbs back to her feet and strides back to her siblings. “We need to go. Now.”_

_They all nod in agreement and are about to leave when something stirs behind them. The templar, still covered in a thick layer of ice, stands tall, his eyes glowing red. His face is different now. Hard, weathered, grotesque. She recognises him in an instant._

_“Quentin,” she says through gritted teeth as he stares hauntingly at her and two desire demons are summoned behind him. “How is this possible?” She looks back to Bethany and Carver, but they are no longer there. She is alone with him. Again._

_“You are thinking about me too often child,” he taunts, enjoying every second of her internal anguish. “You cannot let me go. You cannot let her go.”_

_She follows his eye line over her shoulder and now she sees her. Leandra. In a wedding dress. With the life drawn out of her. She falls as she tries to walk on her own and Scarlett catches her in her arms. “Hawke,” she whispers calmly, her last breath mere moments away. “Can you hear me?” Tears stream down her cheeks as she looks at her mother’s battered face. This is all her fault. She could have saved her. She could have done something._

_“Hawke!” someone shouts again but it is not Leandra this time. As the voice gets nearer, she awakes with a jolt._

* * *

“Hawke, are you all right?” Fenris asks as he watches over her patiently. It takes her a few moments to register her surroundings, but she soon comes to the realisation that the nightmare was not reality.

“Just a bad dream,” she says, sitting up, but the elf looks no less concerned. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’ve been having a lot of bad dreams recently. Want to talk about it?” he asks, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

She almost instinctively shrugs him off but thinks better of it. He means only to help her, but she does not want to express what a failure she is to anyone. He appears to note her hesitancy and removes his hand, making her feel a pang of guilt in the pit of her stomach.

“You have helped me so many times, Hawke,” he assures her, voice much gentler than usual. “It is only right that I do the same for you.”

She ponders it a moment. Perhaps he would understand, he was rarely one to lie to her when he disagreed on a matter. But she was unsure of what she wanted him to say exactly. She desires no absolution or penance, that was Sebastian’s domain. But did she want him to agree, say that she had as good as killed her mother herself by not acting quickly enough? That she was too distracted with other people’s problems to notice what was right under her nose the whole time?

“You blame yourself for her death,” says Fenris. It is a statement not a question, like he could hear her thoughts as if they were said out loud.

“I thought telepathy was a demon’s area of expertise. Have you something to tell me Fenris? One possessed companion is enough, don't you think?” she quips, trying to detract from the seriousness of the conversation.

The corners of his mouth turn up a little, but he remains stoic. “No mind games. I just know you. You take on everybody else’s problems as if they are your own and never give yourself a break.”

“But that’s the problem! I got distracted. I wasn’t vigilant enough! And now she’s dead because of me!” she yells, dropping her head into her hands like a ragdoll to hide her embarrassment of having said far too much. The tears begin to prick at her eyes again, begging to be released.

“No, the sick mage who did it to her is to blame. You had no way of knowing-”

“Don’t offer me pity, I don’t deserve it!” The fire in her quarters crackles and it is the only other sound that she can hear amidst her sobs as Fenris is silent.

Finally, he takes in a deep, sharp breath and speaks. “You could not have known that this would happen. If anyone dares blame you then they are a fool, and I will rip out their heart.”

She lifts her head up a little and manages a slight chuckle at that, the funniest part being that he is probably not joking. “You really don’t blame me? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?” She sits up fully now, facing him as he softly wipes her tears away one by one.

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“Well, no but-”

“But what?”

“It just seems so unfair. Father, mother, Bethany. Caver joining the wardens. Why are they gone but I get to live?”

“The Maker works in mysterious ways,” Fenris replies with a shrug.

“You sound like Sebastian.”

They both laugh for a fleeting moment. “I don’t know Hawke. Why does anything happen? I say there is no sense in questioning it anymore. They are gone and you should grieve them, and I will help you if I can, but you shouldn’t be asking ‘what if’. We could always have done something differently. But you did your best in the heat of the moment and that is what your family will remember.”

She takes his arm and wraps it around her shoulders. He pulls her in close so that she can rest her head in the crook of his neck, and she smiles against his warmth. “You’re right. I feel like a fool for bringing it up now.”

“You are. But I still like you.”

“Wow, I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

They stay locked in their embrace for some time before stoking the fire and returning to bed for a peaceful and dreamless sleep.


End file.
